Cato's End Chapters 24,25
by sw448
Summary: These are the moments leading up to Cato's death. Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games. I do not know the author, or her intents and purposes.


This is my first ever fanfic. I do appreciate critism. I don't mind if you flame. As long as you have a point and get it across to me, I'll be fine.

I wrote this in a span of maybe 30 minutes and I absolutely detest editing for myself. So hopefully that's a good enough excuse if you finish reading and realize you just wasted a few precious minutes of your time that you will never get back. (I hate run on sentences too.)

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I'm a good mile from the lake and the cornucopia. Undoubtedly both the girl and her lover will be there too. Their water, just like mine, has probably dried up.

The gamemakers must be coiled tight, ready for their action to start. They must be going apeshit wherever they're watching this from. _Oh, boy we get to see two more kids get killed. Oh the suspense._

It doesn't disgust me. Instead there's only satisfaction at their love of death, because the two that will be dying certainly won't include me. There will be one victor, and one victor only. Everyone knows who that's going to be.

The lovesick couple must be high because they think two of them will be enough to take me out of the picture. Imagine their surprise when I gut them both. They're deluding themselves if they think they can handle me. _This,_ is what I was made for. So what if they've made it this far? The boy, Peeta, allied with me to get him through before he betrayed me to his girl. And her. I don't even care how she made it this far. I'm just glad she did, because now _I_ can be the one to kill her.

_How shall I do it?_ Which one should I kill first? I'll take them both down, I won't kill, but I'll do enough to ensure they can't fight back. I'll kill them slowly, both at the same time. I'll make them watch while I kill the other. _Won't the gamemakers just _love_ that? The star-crossed lovers meeting their end together. Slowly, brutally, dying as they watch the other's life seeping out. How romantic. _

This will be the most exciting Hunger Game the Capitol has ever seen. I should probably thank the District 12ers. _You two dimwits are going to make _my_ victory an unforgettable one. I owe you guys. _Yeah, owe them nothing but what I'm about to give them.

I chuckle to myself. Then stop abruptly. I hear a twig snapping. No, I take that back. Not one twig, _a lot_ of twigs. As if someone is running towards me. But that's not right either. One pair of feet doesn't make that much noise.

_No. The idiots. Even _they _can't be that stupid_. They wouldn't try to ambush me would they? I give that about a second's thought then rule it out. Peeta wouldn't be able to run. I cut him too badly for that.

Which leaves just one other option as to who, what, is running towards me. Something the gamemakers sent to spice things up. I take off towards the lake before my brain even digests that idea.

_Oh shit. _

I don't know what's chasing me but I sure as hell am not going to stop and find out.

After about half a mile I finally hear what's after me. Some sort of dog. I can hear the howling and yapping but it's not like anything I've heard before. I know the gamemakers wouldn't have sent your average dogs. You can bet your life -and shit, why not- mine too that these are some twisted genetically mutated canines.

Another disturbing thought. _I'm tired._ I'm a fighter not a runner. I've never had to run from an enemy before. They were the ones running. And my lack of practice is wearing me down. My lungs are heavy, my legs leaden.

I hear the howling from behind getting closer and it's enough to send a fresh burst of strength through me. I pump my legs faster and briefly contemplate whether I should take off the armor I'm wearing. I could run faster without it. But I quickly abandon that thought. If they catch me, and that's becoming a pretty good possibility, I'm going to need something to protect me.

Another half mile passes and the dogs are gaining on me. But I'm almost there. I can see the cornucopia._ If I can just make it to the top._ I'm fairly certain these things can't climb.

I sprint past the lake, barely even registering the twelves. I give them enough attention to know that they think I'm charging them. I shoot through them and am a couple yards away when I hear one of them scrambling after me. The dogs must have emerged from the woods.

And then I'm there. At the cornucopia. I climb as if my life depends on it. Which, funnily enough, it does. The metal of the horn is blisteringly hot but I couldn't care less. I reach the top and my sigh of relief is lost within my gasps for breath. My side is splitting and I pant as I look down over the edge.

I know the girl is right behind me and prepare to throw her off the structure. But I'm given a few more moments to rest because Peeta is at the base and- from the sound of it- about to get eaten. I go back on my plans. It would be okay with me if the mutts took them both. I wouldn't be too put out.

"Climb!" the girl yells. I hear the boy making his way up. The mutts are right behind him.

Unable to contain the question, I ask "Can they climb it?" I cough to clear my throat.

"What?" she yells back.

Peeta heard and he relays my question. But she doesn't answer.

I watch the mutts as they try to scale the cornucopia. They look familiar somehow. It's impossible but I think I recognize some of them.

They yap at each other, sharing information. I watch as a blond dog –yes _blond_- runs and leaps up onto the cornucopia. It lands frighteningly close but can't find a good purchase and starts sliding down.

Then I hear the girl scream. "It's her!" she shrieks.

"Who?" asks Peeta.

But I lose the rest of the conversation as I watch the dogs split up and begin to launch onto the horn. The boy is pulled over. I hope for a second that he'll land on the ground before I realize the girl is holding on. She always ruins everything for me.

"Kill it, Peeta! Kill it!" she shouts. I would have strangled her right then but I was still too out of breath. I watch as Peeta stabs the dog that's holding on to him and the girl pulls him back up. They climb back closer to me.

My breath is returning and I begin to strategize how to do this. I see her arm her bow and have a moment's fear that I'll get shot, before the arrow lodges in a mutt that jumps onto the cornucopia.

I somehow relate the dog to an image of Thresh. _One of my kills. _And then I realize that that's why these mutts looked so familiar. They are -were- the other tributes. I smile at the novelty of it. The gamemakers know how to do their jobs right.

Then I get up and crouch closer to the pair. In one move, one swipe of my arms, I have Peeta's neck in the crook of my arm. He tries, unsuccessfully, to worm his way out. I notice that his calf is bleeding, probably from where the dog had him.

The girl aims her arrow at me but I'm not sweating it. I've got it covered – literally. I watch amusedly as she figures out I've got armor on and redirects her arrow at my head. But even then, I'm not worried.

I laugh. "Shoot me and he goes down with me." I tighten my grip on Peeta. She shoots me, I fall over and take her boy with me. I can see her struggling to figure out a way to save Peeta and kill me in the process. Well, she isn't going to find one.

Peeta's lips are blue and I'll bet on about another forty-five seconds, maybe a minute, before he croaks. I give her a triumphant smile. When he dies I'll used his corpse as a cover to take the arrows, then when she's out of them, I'll just shove them both over the side.

I almost laugh again as Peeta raises his hands, probably to scrabble harmlessly against my grip. But he doesn't. His fingers are soaked in blood and with it he draws an _X_ on the back of my hand. _Maybe his brain is damaged already. _I think, and then I realize, a second too late, what his plan was.

If I had understood a moment sooner I would have been able to keep my grip on him. The arrow enters my hand and I loosen my arm. I don't feel the pain from the arrow, only the force of Peeta's body as it slams into me and I pitch backwards. I try to reach forward and grasp the back of his shirt but it slips through my fingers as she catches hold of him and pulls him forward.

The fall off the cornucopia is relatively short and for the second I'm on the ground I run a quick inventory of my body. Everything but my right hand is working. I spring up and face the horde of dogs that are already surrounding me. I knew I made the right decision leaving my armor on.

The first dog leaps forward but can't get its teeth into my flank.

From inside my shirt I take out a knife. I pull on the blade and it extends to a full length sword. I slash at the snarling mutts and I know that I've sliced a few of them by their wounded howls.

I spin on my foot to slice through the pack and make my way toward the base of the horn again. But I'm at too much of a disadvantage. I don't fight left-handed and there are way too many dogs.

Three of them at the same time attack me. I manage to spear one through the gut but feel my own flesh tearing under the others' teeth. They had worn my armor down.

It seems like an eternity that I am just blindly swinging the sword and receiving more and more injuries. Then one of the dogs makes a well aimed lunge at my hand and I feel my fingers crunch in its mouth. I fall to the ground a second after the sword does.

Strong teeth bite down around my forearm, hard enough to break both armor and flesh but not through the bone. They're dragging me into the cornucopia.

I'm panicking. My heart is racing and my blood is pounding. A dog gets my thigh between its powerful jaws and shakes its head. My scream and the crack of bones come simultaneously.

The others descend upon me, the prey. They rip away what's left of the armor and bite away hunks of my flesh. If I look down, I'm sure that I'll be able to see straight into my abdomen.

I scream at them, I beg, I moan. Nothing works. Then I see one of the dogs looming straight over me. I recognize her in an instant.

"Clove." I plead.

"Clove, please. Help me." I look into her eyes, trying to find a trace of mercy.

But I see none. She turns away and claws at my arm. I can hardly feel it anymore but I realize that she has taken my entire hand off. Another dog quickly severs the rest of my arm at the shoulder.

When I entered the games the thing I wanted most was to kill, to bring death to the other tributes. Now, the only thing I want is for someone to bring death to me. Forget victory, forget honor. Just stop the pain.

Suddenly I choke out a laugh. _The gamemakers should be loving this. The Capitol is probably wild right now, watching me die. _But I quickly forget the amusement.

This is beyond agony. I'm numb and yet my entire body is screaming out.

_Why haven't I died yet? Oh please, let it be soon._

Then I see what could very well be the most beautiful thing to ever cross my field of vision.

She is hanging down over the edge of the horn with her bow in hand.

_She's going to kill me._ But the thought is not accompanied by fear or trepidation, only relief and joy. She looks uncertain and panic spikes through me. If she doesn't do it....

"Please." I try to whisper, I am desperate. There is no way she could have heard me but I know she gets the message. She pulls back her bowstring and I feel something I have never felt before. For the first time in my life, I feel grateful.

_Thank you, Katniss Everdeen._

Then for a split second I watch the arrow hurtling through the air.


End file.
